as we go along
Published in 1587, The Petie Schole by Francis Clement claims to contain “a method to enable both a childe yup reade perfectly within one moneth, & also the unperfect to write English aright”
Having read most of this last night, I’m not sure I’d say it was a truly complete method, but I’ll be giving it a go in the hedge school at Kentwell this afternoon 🙂
A little while ago, I set Small a project – to explore the Second World War primarily through fiction. To get him started, I dug around our shelves and our many secondhand bookshops, and I found a few good titles. The first one he started was Carrie’s War.
Oddly, I’d not actually read this one. Small read it today, in a hurry to get back to screens 😉 and then declared it boring. I suppose it is very different to the sort of thing he reads for himself, but to be sure, I picked it up and read it this evening.
If I compare it to the sort of thing Small chooses – Wimpy Kid, Alex Rider, the pacing is completely different. He complained that nothing really happened – for all it’s set during the war, the action is all at a personal level. Carrie’s war is a story of families and strangers, and how they are brought together and torn apart.
I can quite see why Small didn’t go for it. He didn’t notice the undercurrents of conversations, the small happiness and sadness of day to day life. He also didn’t really notice any of the details like children sliding on trays down the slag heap, or parents dying in accidents in the mine. He doesn’t read a book at that kind of level, and that’s not so surprising, given that we’ve not talked about books the way I do with Big.
I’m hoping to change that now, by starting to read alongside him. I listened to the first 6 Alex Riders on trips to and from Scotland over the years, but I’m a bit behind with them, and I’ve never read any Wimpy Kid. We did try out having a family book club a little while ago, and read Boy in the Striped Pyjamas and Wonder. Wonder was a rather more popular choice – Small still hasn’t really forgiven me for Boy. There have been other books he has enjoyed – perhaps I’ll like the Pendragon Girl series, as he certainly did.
When I suggested the world war II project to him, my ulterior motives were to broaden his general knowledge, and his reading horizons. Now my motivation is to share the fictional journey with him, which I think is a rather better starting point. I daresay he’ll learn stuff along the way, but it probably won’t be the things I might expect, and I’m sure that I’ll learn a few things too.
Do I recommend Carrie’s War? On my admittedly quick read tonight, perhaps it has a stronger appeal to adults in some ways, although a quick search online tells me it’s often used at KS2 – you can get resource books (like Carrie’s War: KS2 (Read & Respond)
I’d love to hear the opinion of someone who lived through those experiences on it.
Tomorrow I might build a page with a booklist on it, we’ve a few titles kicking about already. Do feel free to drop suggestions in the comments through, always looking for more books to read 🙂
He is so very beautiful, that Tigerboy. And I was much struck by the people who recalled him, visitors upon the manor from last year who remarked upon his growth 🙂
When we were offered the Ravensburger Prehistoric Expedition Science Kit for review, I glanced at the covering release, thought Small would enjoy it a bit, and expected something with a fossil kit in maybe an A4 sized box.
Then it arrived. And it’s huge. And it has loads of activities in it – we’ve had several days worth out so far, and we’re nowhere near done. And that’s without doing anything related to triops, which Small remembers doing once, years ago, and not liking, so apparently we’re not doing that again. (I’ll have to try to find someone to give that part of the kit too, because it is really rather splendid.)
So instead, we’ve done making plaster of paris to do an archaeoptyrix cast, built a dinosaur skeleton, and we’re halfway through making a meganeura? (No, I’ve no idea either.)
We’ve examined the ammonite with the supplied magnifying glass, and there’s still plenty of plaster of paris to do the rest of the moulds, and Small and I have a *plan* for the fossil block. (Coming to a youtube channel near you, one day soon. Ish.) Tip with regard to the plaster of paris. Go steady on the water, make sure you really stir it thoroughly. We ended up with thick bits that weren’t quite stirred in, and it took much, much longer than the advised 24 hours to dry thoroughly. Granted this was while it was raining outside like it had forgotten how to do anything different, so everywhere just felt damp.
Honestly, I’ve seen a lot of science kits over the last ten years or so of home education. And quite a lot of dinosaur related stuff too. And I have to say that I think this one is really well put together, and excellent value for money. If you’ve a dinosaur mad offspring or two to entertain, and maybe a holiday coming up, I’d seriously consider this. Particulary if you do have a large space to keep a triops tank with a light rigged over it. (There are 5 I think triops related activities, so not doing them does detract a bit. But the tank/bowl is going on for A3 size, so you are going to need a big space to keep it, and here it would just have turned into a toddler paddling pool.)
Score out of 10? I’d give this kit a 9. And that’s high praise.
Challenged to find a picture of my favourite holiday destination for this Al Fresco Holidays blog competition, I couldn’t resist the chance to wax lyrical about Kentwell Hall and reenactment once again.
It’s an odd choice of holiday. It’s hard work for one, but I suppose it’s the change is as good as a rest philosophy. I’m certainly not all over social media – no wifi, no electricity! means very little in the way of blogging or tweeting. And the clothes – you aren’t getting a tan when you’re tudoring 😉
But the community. Everyone working together – if the dairy and bakhouse aren’t working there’s no bread and butter. Sotlers at various stations around the manor cook the midday meal – pottage mainly, with bread and perhaps a side dish of something involving beans. (Breakfast and dinner are included too, though they’re more modern. And I rarely make it to breakfast, it’s a long walk from the campsite with two small children at that time in the morning.)
My part over the last couple of years has been in the barnschool, somewhat of a busman’s holiday for a home educator, finding yourself in a classroom of sorts with a range of other people’s children. But barnschool is a good place for a woman with small children at her apron strings – a blanket on the straw provides a place to nap, the barnsward is out front with places to play and explore within sight, and a long piece of linen means I can carry a tired Tigerboy when his little legs have had enough of walking.
People ask how you manage feeding and sleeping through the day – a wrap is a lifesaver. Tudor clothes are actually well set up for breastfeeding (unsurprising when you consider the alternatives available at that point. No plastic bottles for starters!) so as long as you’re happy feeding wherever you are, feeding on demand is straightforward. I have found that the demand increases while I’m there, I suppose it’s a reaction to the different environment and probably the higher levels of activity too.
We sleep in a tent while we’re re-enacting. I love camping anyway – I love waking up and crawling out of the tent into the day. It’s easier to be outside when there’s no walls between you and it. I’m not fond of rain but a good pair of wellies helps – rain during the day has to be waited out.
It’s a different pace of life when you’re living in the past. No clocks chasing you around, tasks are just as essential (like arranging food, drink and changing small children!) but the timetable is more forgiving, as are the people around you. And everyone mucks in to lend a hand – toddlers are watched by all adults, bigger children tend smaller ones, women work together to mind each other’s children and get everything done between them. It’s a necessity – there’s no other way to get through the day, but it’s also a pleasure. I’ve found connections in these visits to the past that I would never have expected before I started.
So, when I think of my perfect holiday? It’s at Kentwell, wandering through the past, being someone else. The ultimate break.
